To Love You More
by McGonagall's Bola
Summary: Nothing worth-while ever was very easy. AD/MM -REWRITTEN!


The lyrics used in this piece of fan-fiction, are from _To Love You More. _I don't own anything; it belongs to Céline Dion.

* * *

_Take me back into the arms I love  
Need me like you did before  
Touch me once again  
And remember when  
There was no one that you wanted more _

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore smiled, quietly watching some of the seventh years gathered by the lake with some other pupils of other years. Through the window in the little Headmaster's Office, one had a miraculously full view upon the lawn with the lake and even Rubeus Hagrid's hut in the distance. Headmaster Dippet had called him there for unknown reasons until then. Argus Filch had come bursting in not long after Albus' arrival with something about Peeves into the dungeons. Armando thus had gone to have a look at that himself first, the caretaker not having wanted otherwise.

He couldn't blame them for taking advantage of this exceptionally hot Sunday afternoon at the end of September. One possibly might have anticipated it already with the rest of the year having been hotter as well. The weather in Scotland was usually chillier at that time of the year. It didn't happen often that one could still enjoy the sun in September without having to wear scarves, thicker jumpers and such against the chilly wind – not in Scotland – and considering the fact that it wasn't a regular week day and there wasn't that much homework given yet at the mere beginning of another year at Hogwarts...

His vivid blue eyes flickered madly as he could see the daughter of Gideon McGonagall leap to her feet and begin running, nearly immediately followed by Alastor Moody, a fellow seventh year Gryffindor of hers. He could see her squeak as Moody soon caught her, lifting her up into the air and swinging his companion backward and forth as if he were going to throw her into the lake, with her screaming loud and holding onto the collar of his robes tightly. He wouldn't do it. Albus knew, but the fact that Minerva didn't made both her companions and the old Transfiguration teacher laugh aloud.

He had a lot of respect and admiration for this girl, seeing her like that even though her father had passed away only half a year earlier... and her father had been her hero – of her and of the six year younger twins Ian and Alistair. Albus vividly recalled how he, being the girl's Head of House, had been the one having had to inform her of the news and the circumstances. Her father had been an Unspeakable for the Ministry and had been ambushed... and killed by one of Grindelwald's followers, like two others of the original eight Aurors sent on that raid. The information given to them had been false.

She had merely eyed him in disbelief at first, then fallen into his embrace at the realization that Albus wouldn't fool her... and certainly not in such serious matters. She had only cried and cried and sobbed heart-wrenchingly into his arms for hours, holding onto him with every bit of strength she had had.

Minerva McGonagall would become a very fine young woman if she already wasn't, having inherited the natural charm and beautiful looks of her mother and immense intelligence and courage from her father.

He could swear he had seen her smile momentarily at him upon redirecting her gaze to the castle once Alastor had set her down on her feet again. With her intense teal green eyes and lengthy ebony braid and clad into a nice soft green dress that reached mid-calf, Minerva McGonagall's beauty matched if not overruled her mother's. He couldn't imagine any other woman that was more beautiful than she. His musings, however, were interrupted by the return of a seemingly enraged Armando Dippet, the color in his face uncannily matching that of a ripe plum's.

_Don't go, you know you'll break my heart  
She won't love you like I will  
I'm the one who'll stay  
When she walks away  
And you know I'll be standing here still_

Minerva quietly nibbled on her piece of bread, not even having touched upon the rest of her dinner yet and leaving it to cool. She occasionally dared a hopefully inconspicuous look upon the Head Table – on Albus Dumbledore, her Head of House and her teacher in Transfiguration, in particular. She sometimes did this while in Transfiguration as well, like when the pupils were given the remainder of the lesson to begin working on the essays Albus had requested. Every time that she, however, caught herself on gazing at the teacher dreamily, she immediately redirected her attention again.

The appearance of a large sooty owl suddenly interrupted the chatter in the Great Hall as it flew straight to the deputy headmaster, neatly avoiding landing into anything upon destination. Most of the pupils had discontinued eating and chattering and had followed the line of the large Ministry owl to then rest upon the deputy headmaster with curiosity. Most of his colleagues eyed him curiously, too. He paid no attention to anyone as he quietly undid the letter that the owl had delivered. One could see the vivid blue eyes rove over the letter, taking in the information it contained. He again paid no attention to anyone as he folded the letter, slowly stood and left the Great Hall, the letter clutched in his hand and the owl following him.

Ever since the first time Minerva McGonagall had walked into the room where Transfiguration was taught and had seen Albus Dumbledore sit there at his desk while waiting with patience until everyone had arrived, the younger Gryffindor had been totally taken by him even though barely having been eleven. The man somehow seemed to radiate intelligence and great kindness and many other positive vibes she could only feel but not name.

He had been the one holding her right after Gideon McGonagall's murder... had been the one informing her as gently as possible... He would invite her on Fridays after dinner to share a pot of tea with him over a game of chess. Sometimes they would amiably chat about a lot of things, and other times they merely enjoyed each other's company in near quiescence. Somewhere along the conversations with her Head of House, Minerva McGonagall had come to the realization that she must have fallen in love with him. Albus Dumbledore had replaced her father somehow... had become her new hero. At the very same time, Albus had evoked an entirely other kind of emotions within her – romantic ones... irrational ones...

These very same irrational emotions made Minerva immediately drop her piece of bread on the table and made her get up, gather everything and run from the Great Hall. Few actually noticed her following him... leaving her companions and the few others that had seen her leave gaping after her. One didn't need to have much of a brain to connect Minerva's sudden leave with Albus'.

Minerva McGonagall wasn't stupid. Albus himself had been the one telling her about the upcoming war. She really wasn't stupid. She herself had seen that particular kind of owls at home a few times and each and every time had they been for her father – Ministry owls carrying letters of importance. The Ministry could only need her Head of House with such urgency for one reason... Her own father had been called away like that when she had been at home often enough. She understood that sometimes it wasn't only about one person, but about a bunch of others that could be saved with the sacrifice of that one soul. That's how her father had been killed. That's what she would tell Albus as well. However, there was something else she really wanted him to know...

Albus Dumbledore was already nowhere to be seen anymore as Minerva herself ran all the way to his office. Minerva McGonagall furiously hoped she wasn't too late yet...

"Albus!" Minerva screamed, heavily leaning against the open doorway... having found him just about to use his Floo... already holding a handful of glittery silver powder. He then turned to her at once, his eyes showing surprise. He didn't get the chance to say anything, for Minerva had run over to him already and launched herself at him. Floo powder flittered down on the carpet as he too wrapped her in his embrace like Minerva had done with him. Minerva began talking without entangling herself first. "I know where you're going," she whispered, her voice sounding right beside his ear as Minerva stood on tiptoes while holding onto him hard. "I can't stop you. It wouldn't be fair, I know. I just... I couldn't let you leave without..."

She then retracted just a little to be able to look at him, then leaned in to let her lips touch his in a kiss. He didn't return it. She hadn't anticipated him to either. Green eyes connected with blue then as their lips parted again. "I love you," she whispered. "I cannot keep you from going, but..." She quietly shook her head to keep him from interrupting, indicating she wasn't done talking quite yet. "Please... do return."

He didn't say anything. He didn't return the three words to her. He merely kissed her hair, vivid blue meaningfully connecting with teal green as he wandlessly and nonverbally summoned the Floo powder from the carpet into his hand again. It only took him a second to turn to the fireplace, throw the glittery silver Floo powder into it and disappear into the green flames after having voiced his destination, "The Ministry!"

Minerva McGonagall momentarily wanted to go after him, but she eventually chose not to either way. She sighed. She knew fully well that she wasn't really the type of woman a man like Albus would or even could love. However, she knew as well that whatever might ever happen, she unlike any other woman he might ever meet and maybe court, she would love him forever. She highly doubted she could ever even love another and be disloyal to him... She would remain waiting for him even if he never acted on it...

_I'll be waiting for you  
Here inside my heart  
I'm the one who wants to love you more  
Can't you see I can give you  
Everything you need  
Let me be the one to love you more_

Albus had been gone for about four days and nights, leaving all of his pupils quite a lot of free time, considering he hadn't assigned anything, nor had a substitute been sought. Transfiguration, like Charms, Herbology, Potions and Defence Against the Dark Arts, was a major subject from first to seventh year and was taught a few hours a week.

Right then was again one of these hours. The seventh year Gryffindors and Slytherins thus had a free period in which most of them retreated either in the common room or the library to work a bit on essays and other homework. Minerva McGonagall, even though curled up in the Gryffindor common room on one of the many comfortable red armchairs, didn't belong to either group. She only sat there 'reading' the very same page over and over again. Luckily enough, she actually was the type to work ahead, and thus all essays which needed be handed in that week had been long finished already – otherwise she would have had serious issues, considering ever since Albus had left, Minerva hadn't been able to really focus on anything at all.

She furiously hoped he would return soon, hopefully after having caused Grindelwald's downfall – the wizard that had been the cause of her father being killed.

The weight upon her heart weighed more heavy each day with him gone: the worry for him not returning, the worry for him not understanding how much Minerva actually did love the man... and was willing to sacrifice for him. This wasn't an ordinary teenage puppy love!

She shouldn't have let him go like that. She either shouldn't have told him anything at all or should have told him all that, too.

She really hoped one day she would be able to straighten that one mistake.

_See me as if you never knew  
Hold me so you can't let go  
Just believe in me  
I will make you see  
All the things that your heart needs to know_

Minerva McGonagall didn't doubt that the rest of the girls had already fallen asleep maybe hours earlier. She hadn't really been able to sleep at all since the day she had seen the love of her life walk into the green flames that would take him to the Ministry. Over the course of six days, she had seriously begun doubting about her decision to not have gone after him. The last two days in particular, she had been pondering about Flooing to the Ministry herself and ask for more information about Albus' whereabouts. She could not live with that uncertainty about whether or not Albus was still alive. She had no idea where he was or with whom. She didn't know anything. No one knew anything.

Yesterday, Minerva had gathered all her courage and had gone to the Headmaster's Office to request if maybe he knew anything about her professor in Transfiguration. Armando Dippet had shaken his head. She had already run from the office when the headmaster had wanted to ask her why she required to know. She was rather grateful for him not having fallen back on the subject again.

She sighed, eyeing the early pinkish sunrays as they splayed upon the ceiling. She kicked aside the covers angrily. Days of no sleep or even rest certainly were taking their toll upon her. She looked incredibly pale, and there was some bluish discoloration under her eyes giving away the reason for her lack of energy. Her companions were beginning to worry about her, but thus far Minerva had refused to admit the true reason for that, passing it off as stress.

She sighed, getting up in a sitting position and heaving herself upright then. She naturally took her wand, then moved to the window sill and sat in the window, gazing down on the domain of Hogwarts bathing in the upcoming May sun. She curled her legs up against her then, wrapping one arm loosely around her knees while waving her wand with the other, making a bunch of colourful butterflies appear from the tip of her wand. They quietly fluttered around her head as she redirected her eyes to the window again, continuing to watch the sun rise higher and higher and the domain become more illuminated. She somehow felt less lonely with the butterflies whizzing around her.

She had no idea how long she had sat there already – just gazing – when suddenly she noticed movement at the tall iron gates. She naturally narrowed her eyes, seeing that it was a figure. When he passed through the gates and began walking up the path to the castle, it merely took her a few more seconds to recognize him. The long strides in which he usually walked were gone, and he somehow seemed to limp or at least move forward uneasily. She only knew of one man whose long auburn beard and hair looked so like spun by golden threads in the early rays of sunshine, though. The figure was none other than Albus Dumbledore.

_I'll be waiting for you  
Here inside my heart  
I'm the one who wants to love you more  
Can't you see I can give you  
Everything you need  
Let me be the one to love you more_

And some way all the love that we had can be saved  
Whatever it takes we'll find a way

It didn't take Minerva McGonagall much more than a second to make up her mind. She fleetly hopped from the window sill and ran to the door of the dormitories, barely snatching her dressing gown from the chair beside her bed only because she had to run past it – otherwise she wouldn't have done the effort.

The butterflies Minerva had made appear earlier momentarily stilled then faded into nothingness as their creator hurried down the stairs into the common room on bare feet, trying to work her arms into her dressing gown over her lengthy, sleeveless and white nightdress with little blue flowers without even slowing down, her wand clutched tightly into her fist as she ran for her life. The Fat Lady looked after the early Gryffindor groggily with one bleary eye before falling asleep again.

She ran as fast as her legs could carry her, nearly tripping over her own feet on the stairs down. The castle was luckily for her abandoned – her being most likely the only one, or at least one of the few, already awake at that unreasonably early hour. She had no idea about the time, and she couldn't care either. The owners of the paintings which were awake looked after her as she flew by seemingly running for her life and maybe at that moment she was.

Tears began blurring her vision more and more with each step closer to Albus, and by the time she finally reached the entrance hall, the tears were coursing down her cheeks. She would be with him soon. She would hold him in her arms very soon again. He would have to let her. An unmatchable smile spread across her lips as she finally managed to tie her robes together, then burst through the wide main doors, having swiped her wand at them while running first so that she would not lose any second having to push all her weight against them to get through.

As she burst through the main doors and ran down the stairs onto the lawn, Minerva's eyes were only focused on one thing, one person in particular. She never let her eyes waver from her destination even though she could barely see him because of the tears anymore. Her loose long ebony hair and the material of her robes billowed after her as she still ran, panting heavily. She easily ignored the stitch in her left side that announced itself. She naturally reached up for her ribs with her left hand for support but would not stop running or even slow down. Her heart pounded fast and wild. Why hadn't the man used the Floo like any normal human being? Then again, maybe it would have taken her longer to know about his return if he had.

She could vaguely see the weak smile on Albus Dumbledore's face as she finally neared him, and she was almost there. "Albus!" She did not know how long it in fact had taken her from the main doors to him, but it felt like it had lasted eternally until she finally came near enough to throw herself in his arms, wrapping hers around his neck as Albus caught her with both arms.

The force with which Minerva launched herself at him, made him topple backward on the grass, her landing right atop of him. He winced as they landed, his injured leg not having been stable enough to hold them both upright. Minerva began to scramble off of him, but Albus held her in place against him only, needing to smell her rich shampoo and conditioner as her long raven hair cascaded down, spilling over her shoulders. Minerva soon gave up on struggling as he, with his last strength, still held her in place atop of him. She leaned up on his torso, looking into his blue eyes, blinking away the tears to be able to focus better on him. They looked very worn and clouded, but as he looked at her tenderly, the weak smile on his lips refusing to falter, a little twinkle shone through as well. He slowly reached up with his hand, cradling her face into it as his right thumb stroked away the tears still cascading over her cheek. He then tenderly traced her jaw line, his hand sliding into the long silken tresses as he gently lowered her face to let her lips meet his. He felt like home for the first time in nearly a week.

Her name had run like a mantra in his head all the time, like his had in hers. It would be hard, but as they kissed one another with equal passion and fervor, they both knew it would be worth it. No matter the many inequalities between them, they were one right then. They were merely equals. The line between pupil and professor and the difference of forty-four years melted away. Words didn't need be spoken, the love ignited and burning into them both sealing their bond. Nothing worth-wile was ever easy after all.

_I'll be waiting for you  
Here inside my heart  
I'm the one who wants to love you more  
Can't you see I can give you  
Everything you need  
Let me be the one to love you more_

"I'm so proud of you," Albus whispered, as he entered their bedroom again after having guided Poppy down to the door. Fifty-two hours of labor had exhausted her, but the smile which she gave him as he entered their bedroom again was breathtaking. His smile matched hers as Albus quietly made his way over to the bed and sat down on the edge, taking in her appearance. He had never seen Minerva smile so brightly until then – not even on their wedding day. The thought of their wedding day less than two years in the past made him intuitively turn his head to the blown up wedding picture hanging on the wall opposite the bed. It had been a truly beautiful day in March, and Minerva had looked more breathtaking than ever. He vividly recalled how he hadn't released a breath as she had made her way down the aisle to him, and every step closer to him had convinced him more of her beauty and of how stunning she actually looked. The picture had been taken during their opening dance into the miraculous ballroom Albus had gotten to rent. They had lots more pictures in a photo album, though: pictures of Minerva walking down the aisle, her slipping the ring around his finger and the other way around... them dancing... them having the first glasses of Champaign... them having the first pieces of the wedding cake...

"It seems like we'll have to make some room for another special moment," Minerva whispered. Her voice was hoarse and tired as she spoke, a result from having screamed in pain for hours... Albus had never left his wife's side long. He had been so gentle and caring all the way through. Albus had kept up with the tirade that had ensued when she had been told to begin pushing and the burning sensation had begun. He had carried her to the bathroom when needed and helped her to satiate her thirst and eat a bit during all of it when possible. He had sat into the bath with her, rubbing her back when Poppy had suggested that to ease the pain before the hard labor pains had really begun. Shortly after she had left the bath because it had gotten too cold, Minerva's water had broken – in fact on the way from the bathroom to the bedroom.

Albus merely smiled down on his daughter. He furiously hoped that she would grow up to have the natural charm and beauty, intelligence and remarkable courage of her mother. Nevertheless, he didn't doubt that his wonderful little girl would be and already was perfect. She was perfect already. There was no other word for her, Albus concluded, looking down at her tenderly as she suckled on her mother's nipple, her small fists flailing against Minerva's bosom as if it would help the milk flow. "She's beautiful," Albus whispered, "just like you are." He could see her roll her eyes at him in disbelief, and he leaned in to peck her lips. "You are never anything less but perfect to me, Minerva." She smiled up at him in appreciation. And even though her hair was all sweaty and halfway matted to her face, and even though her eyes were red and swollen and tired looking from the lot of crying she had done since halfway her intense contractions, he had never seen Minerva's teal green eyes twinkle so madly. Her lips were rough and chapped, and she was sweaty all over, her nightdress matted to her body, but he couldn't care less.

Her heavy head sagged on his shoulder as their daughter released her mother's nipple, and she carefully lifted the baby's upper body, cradling her against her with one arm while tugging her nightdress closed again with the other. She tenderly patted her daughter's back until she burped, adjusting the slab on her shoulder. Albus and Minerva both momentarily chuckled. "I love you," Minerva whispered as they both looked down upon their daughter.

"I love you more," Albus teased.

Usually, she would have replied him back... and he would have replied her back again, keeping up the banter for a little while, but not now. "I know," she whispered, sighing in happiness. Life could not be better.


End file.
